Replaced Replacement
by LithiumKiss
Summary: Jealousy was something Latvia seldom experienced. Russia/Latvia, Ivan/Raivis.
1. Replaced Replacement

**AN: Yay for Russvia. This randomly came to me after reading Lithuania's Out-Sourcing Comic. **

**I'm sorry Latvia TT_TT  
**

**...**

* * *

**Replaced Replacement  
**

Jealousy was something Latvia seldom experienced. He was smaller than most nations, and his bravery was almost non-existent, yet over all he was content with who and what he was as an individual. Even when it came to Russia, there was nothing to be entirely jealous about seeing as at the end of the day, Latvia got to go home with him. Indeed, Lithuania and Estonia came home with him, too, but they were his brothers, and he loved them. And sure, Russia seemed to favour Lithuania above the three of them, but Latvia never allowed himself to become jealous, even when Russia would lean over his shoulder to see what he was doing more times than he did to Latvia; even when Russia would play with Lithuania's hair when he thought nobody was watching. No, jealousy was not something Latvia felt; just a niggling pain in his heart was all. Jealousy bred hate and Latvia didn't want to hate his brother.

But when Lithuania returned home from staying with America, Latvia felt the bite and bitter sting of green raging through his veins. Russia's whole demeanor transformed right before his eyes; his whole face brightened, and when Latvia saw his eyes, he could only describe them as well as one might in a romance novel; they _shone_.

Russia was _happy_.

Long forgotten were those days and nights of drowning himself with vodka, cursing America countless times, comparing himself with America; why wasn't he good enough for Lithuania to stay with?

Long forgotten were those days and nights of seeking out Latvia for comfort, telling him he was a good boy, telling him that he knew Latvia would never, ever leave him.

The moment Lithuania walked back through the door, Latvia was non-existent. And for the first time ever, Latvia wished Lithuania wasn't there.

"I've missed you, Liet. Come, tell me about your stay with America-kun. I bet he didn't treat you as well as I did~"

Latvia and Estonia were left standing by the door, resuming their positions as mere servants once more. Estonia shut the door and tugged on Latvia's sleeve as he turned to follow Russia and Lithuania into the dining room. He lowered his voice, a concerned look on his face.

"Don't tell me you believed Russia-san would pick you over Lithuania once he got back?"

Latvia shook his head weakly, yet he knew his brother wouldn't believe him. He had hoped that perhaps Lithuania wouldn't receive such a warm welcoming. He'd hoped that perhaps he'd meant more to Russia since Lithuania left.

His hopes had been shattered. Russia had come along with his faucet and destroyed all the little pieces until they were marred beyond recognition. Latvia should have known better.

"You know he doesn't love us, don't you Läti?"

Latvia looked up and opened his mouth to argue. Of course Russia loved them! How could Estonia even begin to question that? Latvia bowed his head again in defeat. There was no use in trying to tell Estonia his feelings or how he knew that Russia did love them.

"I-I know. Don't worry about me. Lithuania's home now so Russia-san will be better, won't he?"

Latvia gently pulled away from the Estonian's grip and went up to his room. He buried his face into his pillow and after a few shuddering breaths, the tears came and they didn't stop for hours. He didn't want to dislike Lithuania for returning. He wanted to apologise to Estonia for being so insensitive – he shared Latvia's pain, too, and he had for a long time.

* * *

"_Raivis…Raivis…you're such a good boy. You'll never leave me, will you? You love me, don't you? You don't need money or warmth, do you?"_

_Russia pulled Latvia down onto his lap and smothered him with his hands and arms. Latvia couldn't breathe but he didn't care, especially when those almost icy lips found his chin and then his throat. He put his hands on Russia's chest, partly to push him away, partly to comfort him. _

"_N-No, Russia-san. I-I mean, I don't need those things…and I do love you."_

_Russia ran his hands down Latvia's sides and rested on his hips for a few moments before pushing him off. _

"_Liet will come back to us, won't he, little Latvia?"_

_Latvia got up off the floor and nodded as he brushed off his clothes. But not now, Latvia silently pleaded. He quickly excused himself, not letting Russia see that he'd been upset by his actions and raced up to his room, face flushed, heart pounding, body hot. The sound of a bottle smashing against a wall coincided with his rapid breaths as he stroked himself. _

"_Don't come back…not now, Lithuania…not now…"

* * *

_

Latvia panted, running his hand up and down his length with embarrassing desperation. He wanted Russia to pull him into his lap again, wanted those lips, those hands again. He thought of those icy lips and how they would feel sliding up and down as his hand did, a hot wet tongue in place instead of his slightly sweaty palm. Within moments, he came, letting out a sharp cry into his pillow, dirtying his hand and his sheets. When he'd calmed down, he got out of bed and pulled the sheets off his bed, bundling them in his arms. He wiped his eyes and made his way out to put the soiled linen into the wash.

"Latvia~"

Latvia almost jumped out of his skin, not expecting anybody else to be awake. A large hand took hold of his shoulder and pushed him against the wall. Russia loomed over him, and Latvia felt his cheeks burn uncomfortably.

"Russia-san! H-How is Lithuania?"

There was an uncomfortable silence and Russia leaned in closer so he was almost pressed up against the small Latvian. Latvia held the sheets to him tighter, hoping Russia wouldn't be able to sense anything.

"He hates me," Russia said brokenly. "He doesn't want to be here. But I'll make him stay. He'll never want to leave me again."

Latvia dared to look into those purple depths. Russia's eyes weren't red, and there was no sign that he was about to cry, but a crystalline tear spilled down his cheek.

"He doesn't, Russia-san."

Russia gripped Latvia's shoulder much tighter, causing him to cry out slightly in discomfort.

"He does, little one. He would rather spend his days with that capitalist asshole, our dear America-kun," Russia said in a hushed tone, a smile on his face, as if everything was fine.

Latvia began to shake. He wanted so badly to comfort Russia but that was no longer his place or his duty. He pushed Estonia and Lithuania's faces out of his mind and leaned forward into Russia, not particularly caring about the sheets in his arms anymore.

"Russia-san…_Ivan_…I'll never leave you. I-I love you and I don't need money or warmth, remember?"

Russia let out a small, cruel chuckle before leaning forward and brushing his cheek against Latvia's. The action sent a small chill down Latvia's spine as Russia's skin was cool, but he didn't dare pull away.

"One day you will, and you'll betray me like he did."

Before Latvia could protest, his lips were claimed in a half-hearted, almost empty kiss. He wanted to feel his tongue against Russia's but he knew the touch of their lips was all he would receive.

"Please," Latvia breathed once Russia had pulled away. He didn't know what it was he was begging for, but he wanted more. He wanted the unattainable; he wanted Russia's love and the heart that he knew lay beyond the icy exterior.

"Goodnight, Latvia. Sleep well~"

Without another word, Russia descended downstairs and Latvia slid down the wall and bit his lip until it bled. Tears bit at the back of his eyes, stinging relentlessly, but he refused to cry.

"Sleep well, Russia-san."

* * *

**Estonia calls Latvia Läti (Lätimaa, which is Estonian for Latvia)  
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**Would love to know what you all think! **


	2. Hearts of Stone

**AN: Wahh, so long TT_TT So much for having the fourth chapter of 'Aces and Spades' done this week *grumbles*  
**

**This was supposed to be a one shot but I was asked by several people to continue it, so here's the second chapter. Hope you're happy guys, 'cuz seriously I will hunt you down and... I'm kidding. Thanks for the support! I'm happy you liked it so much that you wanted more.  
**

**My good friend's grandmother died only yesterday so I aimed to finish this chapter for her, seeing as she has started to like Hetalia and Latvia in particular.  
**

**This was going to be another sad chapter, and in many ways it is, but not all of it. Just be warned, this isn't going to be the happiest story ever, however I will make it have a satisfying ending, so I guess you have to have a stronger heart and an inner angst monster to like this, but perhaps even if you don't have either of those things you might like it anyway. **

**Considering the first chapter was set just after the first World War, and this after the Second, the next will more than likely be towards the end of the Cold War, and the last in the present day perhaps. **

**Please enjoy - I doubt enjoy will be the best word for this, so...I hope you all appreciate this. IT'S SO _LONG_ in comparison to the first chapter D:**

**I don't own Hetalia, by the way. And this is only really loosely based on history, so I'm not aiming for historical accuracy here.  
**

**...**

* * *

"I know it doesn't taste the best, but you really should eat it."

"Heh, whatever. Who would've thought that _me_, the awesome Gilbert Weillschmidt, would be here in this shit hole getting spoon-fed like a senile old man?"

Russia lurked behind the slightly opened door to the guest room where Prussia resided, and watched as Latvia held a spoonful of food a few inches away from Prussia's mouth. He was battered, bruised and weak from the defeat he and his brother faced at the end of the Second World War, yet he held onto his pride and his arrogance was as fiery as ever.

Russia gripped the doorknob so tight it was a surprise that it didn't shatter. He never noticed Latvia, never acknowledged all that the smaller nation had done for him, yet he continued to stay, his loyalty unwavering no matter what the situation. Seeing him in front of the Prussian, however, showing him that soft, kind side that Russia loved and hated equally caused a strange feeling to settle in his chest; a mixture of guilt and jealousy.

"Dear Old Fritz would be turning in his grave right now," Prussia muttered regretfully.

"Please, Prussia-san, even if it's just this one spoonful."

Russia bit back a growl at the smirk Prussia gave the small Latvian. It seemed as if he was about to devour him with that gaze, and Latvia just kept his ground, staring back at him with _those_ eyes. Eyes that betrayed his innocence, his sadness. Russia couldn't stand that Latvia stayed only because he was scared, terrorized into admiration, yet he'd rather that than have the little one betray him again like he had just before the war had began.

Russia tried not to think of that. It made him murderously angry.

"I wonder when I'll get to see West again?" Prussia said quietly, more to himself than anything.

"West?" Latvia asked, setting the bowl down beside him.

"Yeah, my brother. Germany, Ludwig." It was the shortest sentence he'd said since Russia had been listening.

"Oh." Latvia lowered his head and shifted uncomfortably. Russia decided it was the opportune time to intervene.

"Now, now, Prussia. I won't have you saying that name in my house~"

Latvia jumped, and his face immediately flushed a brilliant red. Prussia lifted his chin defiantly, pushing his shoulders back as best he could whilst his hands were tied.

"West is the best little brother in the world. I don't give a fuck what you think, filthy red Bolshevik. Our leader may be a psychopath, but Ludwig can't be defined by that. Unlike you; your leader is sick and so are you."

Latvia flinched and began to shake as Russia made his way over to them. He smiled, yet inside he was fuming. Latvia was so composed and almost confident in front of the Prussian – why couldn't he show that to him?

"When you become one with me, you won't be saying such blasphemous things."

Prussia spat on his boot, a look of utter disgust and disdain etched onto his face. "Not likely."

Russia dragged the silver-haired man up from the floor and threw him against the wall, chuckling like a child anticipating the approach of his favourite part of a game.

"Keep testing me, Gilbert and I can promise you won't enjoy the consequences," he whispered once he'd knelt down beside the huddled form on the carpet.

A soft pair of hands gripped his arm and started to pull him back just as he was about to lay his hands on the Prussian again.

"R-Russia-san. Please don't hurt him. H-He doesn't deserve it."

Russia turned sharply to look at Latvia, who was trembling uncontrollably. He looked as though he would cry at any moment, his eyes wide and glassy, yet he remained resolute. Russia wrenched his arm away from his grip and got to his feet, knocking Latvia out of his way. Before he turned to leave, he roughly nudged Prussia in the ribs with his foot, muttering that he should get up if he was so 'awesome', earning a slight groan from the other.

He never really _hated_ Prussia. He thought Gilbert was obnoxious at times, but he believed that had he been more inclined to, he would have made sure that they would have become great allies. But at that moment, he hated Prussia more than anything else. He hated that he could be so arrogant and that he could make Latvia defend him. Russia's heart may have been cold, but it could still hurt and could still break.

He tried to make Latvia a home where he could feel comfortable, and even though he couldn't understand a lot of what the other was thinking and feeling, he did honestly try. In hindsight, he saw that it was wrong to take advantage of Latvia when Lithuania left him. He discarded him once his Liet came home (he knew he would, after all), yet there were times he needed a certain comfort that only Latvia could give to him. Latvia would only ever try to refuse, but it was always in vain. Russia would always win. He never considered Latvia's feelings; if he did that, he might have hesitated, which would have been just enough time for the little Baltic to escape from his grasp.

And also, the worst part of the game he seemed to enjoy playing with Latvia (if he didn't enjoy it, he wouldn't play at all, would he?) was to pretend he didn't care. He wanted to see just how far he could push Latvia before he would break, just how far he could go before Latvia decided he'd had enough. If he could do this, he could prove to himself that he had somebody that would stay by his side no matter the circumstance, that wouldn't hate him no matter what. It was easy to pretend he didn't care, it came so naturally. He wouldn't dare treat Lithuania with such cruelty, because unlike Latvia, his backbone was made of something a lot stronger, and he had no doubt in his mind that if America caught wind of Russia treating Lithuania like a dog on a leash he would step in and take away what was rightfully Russia's.

In truth, the Russian hated everything about himself, and the games and lies and venom were all just ways of hurting himself further. But he was not a human being; it would take much more than sadness and loneliness to make him break. He would not admit his faults or beg for forgiveness.

Just for once, though, Russia wished he could take everything back and start from the very beginning. He wished he could be rid of his obsession with keeping Lithuania beside him, and that he could make Latvia feel good about himself for a change. He wished he could try to love Latvia whole-heartedly. He wished he could just try in general with Estonia.

Outside, the snow was being swept up by the wind, making miniature tornadoes of violent white cold. Russia trudged through it, eyes closed, chin tucked into his scarf which was being pulled back by General Winter's frigid hands.

A very distant sound of helicopter blades beating against the wintry air caught his attention. He looked up to see a barely-there black spec, becoming slowly larger the longer he stared up at it. He shielded his eyes from the assault of the on-coming blizzard and smirked, knowing exactly who that chopper belonged to.

"Pour your soul into it, comrade. Freeze it all over for your Russia."

* * *

"I will have Prussia back, Braginsky! I'll bring force along with me next time and I'll bring you to your fucking knees!"

Latvia flinched at America's words and watched as Russia sat back into his chair, childish smile on his face.

"I will be looking forward to it, America-kun. But for now dear Prussia is mine and mine only, and there's nothing you or your friends can do. He was entrusted to me – or do you wish to take his place?"

Latvia swallowed and looked over to Lithuania who had been standing silently by the fireplace since America had arrived, with Estonia by his side. Lithuania allowed himself a few quick yet very longing glances towards America, which went unseen by both he and Russia. Latvia was thankful for that.

"You're insane!" America stood up abruptly, anger flaring, and pointed an accusatory finger at Russia, whose smile had grown impossibly wide in amusement. "I'm outta here, but you mark my words, you communist bastard! I will be back and I will be taking Prussia with me!"

With that, he turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Russia sighed in mock disappointment and Latvia felt his heart skip a beat in fear of what his next action might have been. Russia straightened up and looked over to Lithuania who was staring at the floor intently, a blush dusting his cheeks.

"Go and make sure our dear friend is alright, Liet. The storm outside has become worse since he first arrived."

"Russia-san, perhaps I should go," Estonia interjected, the first words he'd said almost all day. "Lithuania looks unwell and—"

"N-No, it's alright, Estonia," Lithuania stepped away from the fireplace and ran a hand through his hair nervously, avoiding Russia's eyes. "Russia-san asked me, so I will do as he wishes."

Latvia watched as Lithuania walked out of the room, Estonia following him closely. He swallowed and shifted nervously in his seat. He cleared his throat thoroughly before opening his mouth to speak.

"That was a little cruel, wasn't it Russia-san?"

"What do you mean, Latvia? I know Liet and America-kun are good friends."

Latvia was about to interject when he was swiftly pulled to his feet by the wrist. Russia dragged him over to the window and together they watched the three figures against the stark white of the snow. Latvia began to shake, hearing the slight change in Russia's breathing pattern. His face was still placid, yet underneath that façade a storm was brewing.

"Russia-san, there's more to it than that," Latvia near-whispered, lacing his fingers together nervously. He watched as America took Lithuania's hands into his; they seemed to be exchanging heated words. Estonia stood by, looking around and back up to the top floor of the house. The snow-laced wind would more than likely hinder his vision, so he made no move to warn the two about Russia watching them. "You're not as hated as you believe, Russia-san, but you do things that—!"

A rough, cruel hand found his throat and forced him against the cold glass of the window. Latvia closed his eyes tightly, fighting to get as much air into his lungs before Russia suffocated him. The fingers against his neck were icy, quivering, yet they did not grip any harder. He carefully opened one of his eyes to see Russia trembling, a deep and disturbed sadness in his violet eyes. Outside the wind was howling, and Latvia could hear the clumps of snow pounding against the glass. He shivered involuntary, thinking of how cold Lithuania must have been. He wondered if he and America had parted, what they had been speaking of…

"There is nothing more between America-kun and Lithuania. Nothing. Nothing at all, is there, Latvia?"

The smaller nation quivered uncontrollably at the fear, distress and utter spite in the Russian's voice. He shook his head frantically and fell to his knees once Russia let him go. He wanted it all to go away; his feelings for Russia, his jealousy of Lithuania, and the bitter rampage General Winter was on. He wanted to tell Russia again, for the millionth _god-damn_ time, that he loved him, but he wasn't entirely sure that he even believed it any more. He was sick of being used, and he believed his heart was beginning to turn to stone. He no longer asked himself why about anything concerning Russia either. Russia chased and longed for Lithuania _because_ he had been somebody else's first – Russia wanted Lithuania _because_ he fought for him and captured him.

Had Latvia been so difficult?

…No.

Not really.

Latvia looked down at Russia's boots, caked with small traces of mud, dampened by melted snow and stained by blood. He swallowed and forced his tears to remain at bay. "No, Ivan, there's nothing. Nothing at all."

"As I thought. Sometimes you say the silliest things. Now, I want you to go to Prussia and tell me how he is. I suspect he must be hungry; I forgot to feed him yesterday~"

Latvia nodded and got to his feet, walking past the Russian without looking or speaking to him again. He was not as worried as he suspected Russia wanted him to be – he'd taken a loaf of bread to the Prussian, which would have been enough for at least one day, when Russia was out.

Once he'd checked on Prussia, he decided he would take a shower. There still wasn't much water, let alone hot or even warm water, but it would take his mind off things for a while. The cold water on his skin would make him numb, and perhaps then he wouldn't be able to feel his heart.

Latvia stepped into the cubical and turned the 'hot' tap in vain, along with the cold, braced for the onslaught of freezing cold. It was always a lot worse than he remembered, that never changed, but he was never really prepared for how mind-numbingly bitter the water was on his back. From inside the bathroom, despite the water pounding on the tiles and glass, he could hear Russia and Lithuania. He tried to block out the desperation and hurt in Russia's tone, and the disconnection in Lithuania's – he couldn't hear their words clearly, yet he could imagine what they were saying.

So many times Latvia wanted to tell Russia, to raise his voice, to even yell at him, that Lithuania was in love with America, and that there was no way to change that – especially using his methods. Russia was vindictive, yet he had gentle streaks, and he required somebody who would care for him and love him unconditionally forever. Lithuania was incapable of that, he knew. Perhaps it was because he was more of a free spirit than Latvia, maybe he was more challenging to break. Just looking at his history with Poland was enough to make Latvia want to back off just a little at times. Lithuania was suited to America's personality more than Russia's.

Russia would never understand that, even if the whole world screamed it at him.

Latvia ran his hands up and down his arms slowly, washing the dirt, the worry and troubles from the day away. He wriggled his shoulders as the water cascaded down from his hair to his neck and then to his back. He sighed to himself once he turned the water off, and simply just stood, listening and watching the slivers of water swirl down the drain. He had to remind himself that he was probably no better than Lithuania for Russia in any case. Not twenty years ago, his boss had decided that they, being himself, Latvia and his army, would associate with the Nazis. It was a very short period before Russia had jumped in and…

Latvia hugged himself and leaned against the cold shower wall. He was unaware of how much effort Russia put into gaining Latvia, but he still fought. He _fought_ like he had for Lithuania.

No.

He could not fool himself into thinking that way. Latvia was in no way more desirable than Lithuania.

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his shoulders, shivering slightly as the warmth ever so slowly crept back into his body. The material was not fluffy or soft, but it was not freezing cold, so for that Latvia was thankful. Once his shivering had subsided, he slipped the towel from his upper body and dried his legs before wrapping it around his waist. Next, he turned and looked into the mirror, noticing there was faint stubble on his chin that needed to be shaved. He amused himself for a few moments wondering what it would be like to have a beard, and concluded that it would look ridiculous. Oh well, perhaps it could wait until morning – a beard wasn't likely to grow overnight.

Latvia soaped his hands and washed them, his fingernails jagged and uneven from continuously gnawing at them. It was a new nervous habit, and sometimes it kept him from shaking.

"You're very pale, little one."

Latvia jumped at the same time his heart did. It beat faster and faster in his chest, making him feel edgy. In the mirror, he could see Russia standing behind the half opened door. He could have sworn he'd shut it, but that didn't matter at the present.

"R-Russia-san! What are you doing?"

Latvia turned, his hands behind him on the sink, gripping tightly for support. Russia smiled and walked in, seeming completely unperturbed that Latvia was garbed in nothing but a towel. Not even a hint of a blush was to be seen anywhere on his face.

"Lithuania has gone to Poland with Estonia so I'm alone. We should keep one another company, yes?"

Latvia swallowed, unable to speak. A thousand words, a jumble of incoherent syllables and letters, were racing around inside his head, yet not one of them could he pick out to begin to make a sentence. Finally, something within him clicked (or perhaps it was Russia's expectant and slightly terrifying gaze) and he nodded in affirmation. He did want to keep the other company, though he would have liked to be dressed first.

"Um…G-General Winter's really raging outside, isn't he?" Latvia murmured rather stupidly, trying to take his mind off Russia advancing towards him, closer, closer, closer still… "R-Russia-san?" Latvia started to panic and he braced himself for whatever was to come. He told himself he would be able to take anything, just as long as Russia remained with him.

"I can see your ribs," the larger man said, somewhat regrettably, and reached out to touch Latvia's face. "You eat, but you're so small. Why?"

Latvia leaned into Russia's hand slightly, which he noticed wasn't gloved like usual. He glanced at the space beside Russia's feet and whispered, "I don't know."

"Your skin," Russia said, tracing his finger down Latvia's throat, his chest and over his abdomen, where it stopped momentarily before sliding around to rest on his side above his hip. Russia's rather large hand almost covered half the length of his side. "Your skin is soft and pale. Almost like a babushka doll~"

It amazed Latvia that he could say such things with that amount of conviction, without a hint of a waver or crack, considering his eyes had become deeper with a cyclone of emotions that Latvia could barely keep up with.

"Ivan…" Latvia whispered, feeling as though it was all too good to be true. He knew that his behaviour wouldn't last, he would grow bored or impatient waiting for Lithuania to return. Suddenly, the Russian dropped to his knees and Latvia let out a small, startled cry, unsure of what he was doing.

"Raivis…you're nothing like Liet. You don't think of anybody else but me." Russia wrapped his arms loosely around Latvia's hips, hands resting on the small of his back. Latvia was too stunned to even struggle, to react at all, especially when Russia put his lips on his skin just below his sternum. He really was much larger than Latvia and being so close, just like those times when Lithuania was staying over in America, overwhelmed him almost too much for him to remain standing. He put his hands on Russia's head hesitantly and stroked his hair.

"You're right. You'll always have me, Ivan. Always." _I always tell you. You never listen though, do you?_

"You haven't said that you love me for a long time, little Latvia."

_Because it doesn't matter, you don't love me in return. It never mattered what you said or what I said, it paled in comparison to what transpired between you and Lithuania. _

"It doesn't mean that I don't," Latvia said so softly that it was almost completely inaudible. "I always have and always will."

Russia chuckled and then placed small kisses wherever he could without moving his neck much at all. Latvia shivered and it was only then that he realised Russia smelled of vodka. His senses were bringing him back down to reality before his heart ran away into another pitiful dream.

"Why is it so easy for you?"

_But not for Liet. That's it, isn't it? That's what you were going to say. _

Latvia untangled his fingers from Russia's greyish blond hair and rested his hands on his shoulders, pushing him gently. Tears flooded his eyes, stinging them, but he refused to cry. Refused to, refused to…

A broken gasp gave him away and within seconds, Russia had pulled away and was up on his feet again, staring intently at the Latvian.

"I make you sad, don't I?" Russia asked in a voice poisoned by defeat. "I make Liet sad, too. I try, little one, I try very hard. I would do anything for my people, my boss, my land and for Estonia, Lithuania and you, but that doesn't matter to anybody. They all despise me. They don't see my pain. Do you see my pain, Raivis?"

Latvia slowly approached the Russian and tentatively put his arms around him. He wanted to tell him that he was selfish, and that there were others suffering just as much as he was. He had England on his side, as well as America even though they despised one another, and he hadn't lost the war. His boss was just as bad as Germany's, and his people suffered from the blockade and rations but Russia would make everything right once again, he always did.

Russia had the heart of a child, Latvia realised, and he needed to be told everything would be fine. When he felt defenceless, he needed to be reassured, to be coddled, to be loved. It was true that he was above that of human beings, but he was made of human flesh, after all. It was only natural for him to feel human emotions and to want to be treated as such.

"I do."

As soon as the words escaped his lips, he found himself being lifted into a pair of very strong arms. He squeaked in surprise, and gripped onto the back of Russia's coat tightly in attempt to ward of the slight vertigo that came from being repositioned so swiftly. He couldn't imagine what Russia was planning, picking him up in such a manner; he felt as though he would slip out of his grip. Russia held him tightly around the waist and his feet were a good three feet from the floor. He noticed that he was being held in a way in which one would hold a small child, only Latvia was at least five times the size of a child, at least in comparison to the large Russian.

"I'm going to take you to bed~" Russia said, his voice cheerful once more. Cheerful and very decisive. Latvia panicked and felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he began to shake his head. He _couldn't_…not with Russia after everything…and so fast? He felt dizzy, unable to decipher the answer concerning what he should do.

"I can't," Latvia managed to protest weakly.

Russia simply chuckled. "I'm very tired and I want you to keep me company before I sleep."

"Alright," Latvia breathed and allowed himself to relax as he was carried to Russia's bedroom.

* * *

Russia woke several times during the night, and each time he dreaded looking over to his right just in case Latvia had disappeared. The rhythm of his heart would slow into a comfortable beat once he saw the smaller nation beside him, sleeping peacefully in a pair of his much-too-big pyjamas. He didn't allow the Latvian to retrieve a pair of his own from his room just in case he didn't come back.

Russia reached over and gently traced the slightly-parted lips with the pad of his finger, and watched in wonder as the other shivered in his sleep. He never believed in angels before, but he was certain that there was one sleeping right beside him.

Was it perfectly fine for him to admit defeat right at that moment? Was it alright for him to ask for a tiny piece of forgiveness, a little bit of happiness? Was it okay for him to forget the world outside and leave his responsibilities behind? Was he allowed to feel the foreign warmth in his chest, growing and flowing through his veins?

Russia stopped those thoughts from circulating his head and pushed them away, simply deciding that he didn't need permission for anything from anybody. If he wanted to feel warm, if he wanted to forget everybody else but the fragile little thing beside him, then he would. Russia shifted closer to Latvia and took him gently into his arms, unable to help himself from squeezing the small body slightly.

"Stay with me like this always, Raivis."

* * *

**TBC. Feedback is much appreciated. Sorry I made it so depressing D: Please tell me if there are any errors, too, because I checked over this thoroughly and it's more than likely I missed a few things.. I really tried to keep everyone IC so I hope I didn't disappoint in that area.  
**

**:3 Thank you for reading.  
**


	3. Independence

**A/N: I'm really glad (even more so than before) that you all convinced me to continue, because I love this chapter. Thanks again for the support and reviews :3  
**

**I didn't like Estonia, and I wanted to and I wanted everyone else to (he's a good character, even though we don't see much of him!) so he features in this chapter. A bit of closure, I think.  
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**Next chapter will be the last. **

**Enjoy~**

* * *

A slap tore Latvia from his sleep. He looked around, startled and confused for a few moments, before looking up at a very stern, upset looking Estonia.

"You've forgotten what today is, haven't you?"

Latvia sat up and rubbed at his eyes before looking at the clock on his bedside table. He brought a hand up to his cheek, which had started to sting (just how hard had Estonia hit him?), and looked back at Estonia, who hadn't budged at all.

"It's six in the morning, Eduard. And…I know what today is. Lithuania is leaving us."

"Lithuania?" The Estonian laughed humourlessly, dryly, and shook his head in disbelief. "You're just like _him_ now. Don't you care about Toris anymore, Raivis?"

Latvia flinched slightly, but stared defiantly at his brother. Lithuania's boss had declared independence and he would be leaving Russia's house that very morning. Secretly, he was happy to see the Lithuanian go – he loved him, but he wasn't truly his family. Russia was his family; he had taken the most care of him, and without Lithuania in the house there was more of a chance that Russia would truly love him; he would get to know him instead of constantly staring at Lithuania.

It was true, Latvia sometimes slept with Russia just to keep him company, almost like a vice instead of vodka, but they had never come close to being intimate. It was true, Russia kissed him and touched his bare skin, but never where he really wanted to be touched.

In short, it was hard to mourn Lithuania's leaving.

"I care, Eduard, but don't you think Ivan will be better without him? Lithuania can't pay him the attention he wants because his heart is elsewhere."

"Listen to yourself. _Russia-san _will be worse when Toris leaves, and you're not enough to him to be a true, permanent replacement."

Estonia's words were cold, bitter, and they stung, but Latvia refused to believe them. He could have picked Estonia when Lithuania was with America, but he didn't. He could have asked Estonia to sleep by his side, to keep him warm, but he didn't. He wanted the little, insignificant Latvia.

"Come downstairs if you want – Toris will be leaving very shortly."

With that, Estonia left his room, slamming the door as he went. Latvia lay back down and draped his arm over his eyes. Was he really just like Russia? Perhaps. He knew he'd become distant, colder, since the beginning of the Cold War. It was a wall he'd created so that he couldn't get hurt any more than he had been, and so that he wouldn't be able to change like Lithuania had. If he changed, Russia would discard him.

Latvia had been through too much to be discarded like he was nothing but a toy.

The small nation sighed. He was more than likely just a toy, and had been since the beginning, but he could always pretend. Estonia pretended, Lithuania pretended, so why couldn't he?

* * *

Once Lithuania and his officials' retreating forms became nothing more than black smudges in the distance, Russia went back inside and upstairs to his bedroom where he stayed for the rest of the day. Latvia had busied himself with different tasks and chores, ignoring Estonia, the Russian troops outside and his own thoughts. If Lithuania declared independence, then surely the other Baltic bosses would be planning the same thing.

What would independence mean for him? Would it mean that he would have to live in his own house, miles away from Russia, and have to worry about only himself forever? Somehow, that was not a possibility. He wouldn't want to live without Russia. If he became independent, Russia would hate him almost certainly.

Night came quickly, and it was the darkest night Latvia had seen. The moon was hidden, and the snow had started to fall once more. Winter was approaching in a few months time, yet it already felt like it was there, just outside the house, waiting to freeze them inside.

Latvia made some dinner with the few meager ingredients they had left and divided it into three portions, his being the smallest. He wasn't that hungry, anyway, and it was important that Russia ate – Latvia knew all too well just how difficult it was to bring himself to eat when he was upset, even if he was completely starving.

As he made his way upstairs with the tray, he hoped, prayed to who or whatever was out there, that the Russian wasn't drunk. Of course, it wasn't such a rarity, but just last week, he'd found him completely unconscious, and if he were human, Latvia would have had to take him to hospital for urgent treatment, but he eventually came to. Latvia wished he had remained passed out, because he'd started crying. His tears had been of true distress - perhaps it was after he'd discovered that Lithuania was going to be independent – and he wouldn't let Latvia leave his side. Despite everything, the jealousy that he felt, the pain, Latvia made sure he gave Russia the best care he was capable of giving, and in the morning all was forgotten and never mentioned again.

Latvia reached the door to Russia's study and balanced the tray on one arm as he lifted his hand to knock, but his actions came to a screeching halt when he heard Russia speak.

"You won't leave me, will you Eduard?"

Latvia lowered his hand and placed it back on the handle it had previously been holding. His grip tightened around the handles on the tray and his breath hitched when Russia repeated himself. He prayed that what he was hearing was innocent, that Russia was just trying to cope with Lithuania's absence, but he couldn't convince himself that it was true.

"I can't make any promises." Latvia could tell Estonia was trying to appear like he wasn't weak, like he was immune to the other's intimidating presence, but the waver in his voice betrayed him.

"But I need you to love me."

The tears that fell from Latvia's eyes weren't caused by betrayal or heartbreak - he'd come to accept everything the Russian said, everything he did, no matter how painful it was, no matter how unbearable it made each day for Latvia. The tears that spilled onto the carpet were filled with shame. He knew better. He had always known better.

Without thought or consideration of the consequences, Latvia threw the tray on the floor, the plates shattered by the force of hitting one another. He turned away immediately and walked away briskly, even though he wanted to run. He heard the door open but he didn't care who it was, he just continued to move. He walked down the hall, trying his hardest to ignore the heavy footsteps that sounded behind him, and made it to the top of the stairs before he couldn't lie to himself anymore. Of course he cared who it was behind him.

He turned and looked to see who was following him as he began to descend the stairs, and almost tripped when he saw Russia in pursuit. Without a second thought, he continued to go down, more hurriedly than before, until he reached the bottom. He looked to his left and then to his right, scouting for possible routes of escape.

"Latvia~"

The front door, to his left, seemed to call him, offering him solace and relief even though there was endless, freezing snow on the other side, so without hesitation Latvia ran to it. He hadn't realised his heart had started beating incredibly fast, his stomach tied in knots, until he was captured. He had his hand on the doorknob, ready to open, before a larger body came up behind him, a larger hand reached out to grab his to prevent it from making further movements.

"You were running from me, yes?" Russia's voice cracked, and Latvia refused to believe that the fear of him leaving and desperation had done it, despite the way it sounded.

"No, I..." Latvia bit his tongue, cursing himself for being so pitiful even after everything that had happened. "I...I was running away," he corrected himself but regretted it once he felt Russia tense behind him; still he managed to continue. "You won't ever love me the way you love Liet or even Estonia, will you?"

A strong arm wrapped itself around his waist and the hand covering his tightened, effectively being able to lower it, away from the doorknob.

"They won't ever love me the way you do, Raivis. That's why you can't leave me. You can't be independent because I need you to be here, with me. You're such a good boy...such a good boy, Raivis."

He had no idea why he stayed, wrapped in the Russian's firm grip, allowing himself to be swayed by those words. If he had been normal, if he had been resistant like Estonia and Lithuania, he might have wrested his way out and escaped like he was planning. But he wasn't; he hadn't been normal since his time in Russia's house.

He allowed himself to be hugged tighter as he thought of the possible reasons why he had been weak, and then he realised. They won't ever love me the way you do. Russia had acknowledged his feelings. His feelings - the burden he'd been carrying for years and years and...

No. He had to stop himself. He wasn't to get carried away, he wasn't...

"You haven't slept in my bed for so long. It's so cold without you."

He was already carried away.

Swallowing nervously, he turned to Russia and looked into his eyes. "You need me to keep you warm."

Whether it was a statement, a question or otherwise, Latvia didn't care because before he knew it, he was being carried upstairs and he knew that it would be different from every other time. He saw Estonia's dark stare from behind the study door as they passed, but he ignored it. Estonia would soon be independent, he knew this. In the future, perhaps, they could rebuild what they once had, all of the Baltics could, but at that moment, the future could stay tucked away from sight and from thought because it had reached the point of no return - the act that would confirm his fears, his desires, his everything.

Of course, nothing was ever as it seemed. From the moment Latvia kissed Russia and up until the climax, all there was to feel was hurt, and the very distant call of pleasure that was blocked out by their breathing, Latvia's cries and tears of pain. It wasn't because he'd practically been torn open, but when he'd searched for Russia's comfort, for him to be his anchor, he wasn't there - he always had his eyes closed, blinded by his own pleasure, by himself entirely.

In the end, when it all came down to it, it was Latvia's fault. He hadn't been ready, he was still naive. He hadn't gotten over that Russia used that stupid, stupid word when he'd been talking to Estonia. He hadn't accepted that the comfort of one person would never be quite enough for Russia, no matter how much he tried to be everything he could be. If he had known everything, he would have saved himself.

A shuddering breath was pulled past Latvia's lips and into his lungs as he laid there, staring at the blank wall.

No - Russia was the only nation, the only person, the only being on that Earth that he would have saved himself for in the first place. He had imagined being with Russia would have made everything right - it should have made a deeper connection between them, but nothing had been gained. He felt he was still bleeding, and he wanted to leave, but he was too exhausted. All he could do was lie there and wait for the pain, the memory, to melt away into nothingness.

* * *

Russia turned to see Latvia's back facing him, and he could see his shoulders quivering. He pulled the blanket up higher over the top of them, and put his arm around the smaller nation. He found his hand and held it tightly, pressing his body into Latvia's. He felt the other flinch and tense, and he knew that what they had done wasn't the right thing to have done. It was pleasurable, yes, but Latvia's pained cries brought him back into reality - he hadn't been ready - he had only said yes because it's what Russia had wanted.

He had wanted to be with Latvia.

Not Lithuania or Estonia. Latvia.

He had asked Estonia to love him, even though he wouldn't. He hadn't meant for them to be together, to have any mutual feelings of affection whatsoever. The word had little meaning to him in any case.

Latvia turned to him, and even in the dark, he could see his tears as clear as if it were daytime. He looked broken, but Russia ignored it and kissed him softly on the lips, and when he pulled away, he said the first and truest words that came to him.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

Latvia told him he knew that, and touched his face and kissed him, but Russia could see from his eyes that he had lost him. It was all he could do to stop himself from breaking down right then and there - independence was on the way for both the remaining Baltics. He'd heard his boss and their bosses talking not long ago.

"You believe me, yes?" Russia took Latvia's face into his hands and searched for that particular glimmer, that hint, that told him that he was forgiven, that he was trusted. He could fool himself into thinking it was there, but it wouldn't have been the same as the real thing. He had his chance, over and over again.

Could there be just one more chance before Latvia left him for good?

"Say yes. Tell me: yes, Ivan, I believe you." His voice was frantic, raised a few decibels higher than necessary, which only caused the Latvian's eyes to widen slightly in terror. He nodded nonetheless and even if it was a lie, Russia still felt a small ray of happiness shine through the cold, grey doubt and sadness that loomed over his head all the time. He pulled Latvia close and held him tightly in his arms, afraid that he might disappear. He was afraid to close his eyes, afraid to move, but eventually sleep came.

In the morning, Latvia was beside him, eyes wide open, bloodshot from lack of sleep and crying. Russia selfishly ignored it, pretended he didn't notice at all, and showered him with overbearing good-morning-kisses.

Latvia was his and _his only_ - he would not allow him to become independent from him.

* * *

Estonia had always felt that he'd been different to both Lithuania and Latvia. He disliked Russia the most, more than any other nation. He had always been burdened with jealousy and hurt because his brothers paid more attention to the Russian, his needs, his tempers, his psychotic acts, and didn't seem to care about themselves or the slowly breaking relationship between the three of them. Estonia felt he was further away from them than he had ever been when they lived together in Russia's house.

Estonia watched Lithuania walk away, and he was overcome by a dread that refused to leave him be. His understanding was that Liet was a vice, he was the only thing keeping Russia together.

But only just. Lithuania was spiritually with America; his outer shell remained in the Russian's house, and that was all.

And then there was Latvia.

A part of him despised the smaller nation, and no matter how cruel that was, it didn't make it any less true or difficult to bear. He had been closer to Russia than him when they should have been sticking together through the bitter winters and the fearsome tirades Russia often went on. Time and time again he had told Latvia to stop; he would end up a broken mess.

Latvia never listened. Estonia could see the way he felt; he wasn't blind, but that didn't make it right. Russia did not love him back, and he probably never would.

"It has been fun, yes? I can't imagine that you'll be swayed into staying," Russia said cheerfully, though his eyes were distant, angry and saddened. Estonia had to look away.

Latvia had been taken to meet with the SSR, and Estonia knew it wouldn't be long before Russia would have to acknowledge his independence.

It was true that Estonia believed that his brother's love was unrequited, which was for the best in the long run. Russia would have never made a good partner - he was obsessive, possessive, cruel and overbearing; the complete opposite to Latvia. His brother would find happiness in the future, he was sure of it. Russia would be forgotten in time, and in this, Estonia found a small slice of comfort, something to hold onto until the time for his independence arrived.

However, that evening, his beliefs were crushed, shattered, even, into one million tiny pieces that would never be placed back together.

Russia suggested that they should drink one of his finest bottles of vodka as a celebration. It didn't matter to Estonia if it was the worst quality in the world, vodka tasted the same to him, but he thought it best to accommodate the Russian. It wouldn't have surprised him if he snapped and maimed him to death with that faucet by the end of the night, so perhaps drinking the vodka would numb him enough so pain couldn't be felt.

"I wonder how our Gilbert is going? He's so thin these days, yet he still manages to be so stubborn. Ah, but don't worry yourself, Eduard - General Winter will crush his will and break his bones. I doubt he'll survive into the next year. I would say poor Ludwig, but he deserves everything he gets, yes?"

Estonia nodded idly and drank his glass of vodka. He wondered just how much he'd consumed - he'd stopped shuddering whenever he took a swig.

"You've always hated me, haven't you, Eduard? Even after everything I've done for you and your brothers, you're still cold. It makes me sad that we couldn't have been proper comrades, even at the end."

Estonia frowned and brought the glass up to his lips, letting his lower lip rest on the rim. "You've done nothing to earn my friendship, Russia-san."

"Ah, but I've been so generous, don't you think? Food, water, a bed to sleep in - there are civilians here who do not even have those. I also loved your brother. Isn't it good to know that even after such terrible times that we can love somebody?"

"It's a shame Toris couldn't love you back." The amount of venom that dripped from his words caused him to cringe slightly, but he continued nonetheless. "Love chooses its victims, is what I meant to say."

"Raivis, is who I think you meant to say, comrade," Russia replied quietly. "He is your brother, too, yes?"

Estonia carefully placed his glass down and stood up. Unable to believe what he'd just heard, and not at all game enough to ask Russia to repeat what he'd just said, he went back inside, but not before hazarding a quick glance backwards at the Russian. He looked lost, like a small, defenseless child, wandering in search of a warm, familiar embrace that didn't actually exist.

It was the last time Estonia saw Russia - in the morning his boss came around and Prussia was thrown out into the snow, and was told that he could find his own way home. The Estonian offered him a small smile - in his mind it should have been reassuring, but he had trouble believing that everything would turn out.

So together, he and his boss walked away from that large, lonely house, being the third and the last to claim independence from it and its dark inhabitant. It had been over one year since he'd seen his brothers, and he would be grateful to see them once more.

_Russia-san really did love Läti.

* * *

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**:3**_  
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	4. Freedom In A Cage

**A/N: At last, Replaced Replacement is complete. This chapter took me so, so long to write. I started and re-started again and again until I came up with something that was somewhat satisfactory. I'm still not happy with the ending but I hope you all enjoy this final installment. :)**

**I don't have a whole lot to say about this chapter - it's fairly uneventful, BUT! The main thing is that the story has come to a conclusion. **

**Thank you to my reviewers, to those who fav'd and alerted - you guys (and gals) are fantastic and argh! I can't thank you enough!**

**I think I've found a song that goes perfectly with this fic - I Need You by Relient K. **

**Now, on with the show! Happy reading :3**

* * *

_Whoa-oh-oh-oh.. I need you_

_Whoa-oh-oh-oh.. I need you here, I need you now, I need security somehow_

_Whoa-oh-oh-oh.. I need you, like you would not believe_

_You're the only thing I want, 'cause you're everything, everything I need..._

* * *

The snow of the new millenium had come. Russia stood by the window in his office, looking out at the expanse of snow, unsurprised by the white or the bitter cold. He was indifferent to it now, to everything. He caught a glimpse of red and blue as the flag outside his house thrashed and curled in the wind, and his lips tugged upwards into a small smile. He was unsure of how he felt about the collapse of communism as he had once believed it was a system that would benefit everybody, all of his beloved people, but over time, when he had had a chance to observe its effects, especially during the war and afterwards, he wished it would end. Although he had been victorious, he wished the war had never happened.

He wished a lot of things hadn't happened but they did, and what use was it, dwelling on matters of the past?

Russia smirked at the contradiction; he was ruled by the past, by the so-called injustice that had been done to him by his 'fellow' nations, bosses and civilians alike. He was stubborn and always looked at the bad things, the tragedies, but never the good things that had come from alliances and from the talents of his people. That's perhaps why he was so despised by everybody.

Before he could linger on those depressing thoughts a moment longer, a knock on his office door disturbed him from them. An official came in and announced that a 'Toris Lorinatis' wished to meet with him.

Russia, slightly taken aback, requested that he be let in and within no time at all, he and Lithuania were alone together.

"It's good to see you again, Liet. I confess I have missed your company." Toris stepped forward, ready to speak but the Russian stopped him. "Please, I mean nothing by it. Come, sit down. Have some vodka?"

"I think it's a little early for me. But thank you." It was eleven-thirty in the morning. Perhaps a little early, Russia agreed silently. He motioned towards the chair positioned in front of his desk.

"To what do I owe this pleasure? You must be busy, yes? I, too, find myself busier than usual, but I suppose it is because of the New Year." Russia seated himself behind his desk and watched as Lithuania crossed one leg over the other and placed his hands gently in his lap once he had settled down in his seat; his facial expression completely passive.

"I wanted to see how you were. So much has changed since...then - we both have changed. I'm not sure if we're ready to be friends with you again, not just yet, but please understand that we intend to have perfectly normal relations with you trade and economy-wise."

Russia nodded slowly, smiling, not quite understanding. "Who do you mean by we?"

"U-Uhm, Eduard, Raivis and myself."

"How are they?" Russia asked slowly - he honestly didn't care about the Estonian; he had been a troublemaker from the beginning.

"They're back on their feet again. Raivis is happy. He's really opened up, especially since he's found a special friend."

Russia's ears pricked at that piece of information. He could feel his mouth twist into a frown, no matter how hard he tried to prevent it. Special friend? He laced his fingers together and clenched his hands until his knuckles were extremely pale.

"Who is this 'special friend'?"

The Lithuanian looked away momentarily before answering his question. "Sealand - Peter Kirkland. He's only a very young boy, not even a century old yet."

That did little to settle Russia's nerves, yet by the sounds of things, it seemed he was no threat. He paused that train of thought momentarily - what Latvia did was none of his concern anymore. He was independent and who he made friends with was beyond his control. He evenly stared at Lithuania, forcing away the frown that wanted to creep onto his face.

"As long as he is happy, then so am I."

It wasn't the biggest lie he'd told. Russia's understanding of...love...was that if somebody loved another person enough, then they would be happy seeing them in the arms of somebody else if it made that person happy. But Russia couldn't accept that - how could they be happy if it hurt so much? Why did hearing that Latvia had found somebody else (even if they were just a friend, too young to be a lover of any sort) make his heart twist in pain and his stomach in guilt? Was it because Latvia would no longer be thinking of him, would no longer be caring about him? Twist, twist; every thought hurt him further.

"Ivan," Lithuania said quietly, breaking him from his thoughts. "I must confess I came here for reasons that are entirely selfish. I-I used my brothers to hide behind so I'd be allowed here, to talk to you. Please don't interrupt me, otherwise I won't be able to say what I want to."

Russia wondered what Lithuania could possibly want to say. Things ended quite badly between them and many things went left unsaid - Russia had wanted to apologise for his actions and his treatment of Lithuania and his brothers, but was blinded by rage and betrayal.

"I'm here to offer myself to you." He lowered his eyes once more and focused on his hands that came to rest on the surface of Russia's desk. "I know it didn't work before - I-I was blind, see, and I didn't know what was right for me. But I know now that it's you--"

"I'm sorry, Liet. I don't understand." He truly didn't. The tone of his voice suggested he was being honest, but his eyes said differently. Human beings communicated with their eyes more than they did with their mouths - no matter how much they said, their eyes would say what they truly meant.

"I want you as you wanted me those years ago. Won't you have me now?"

Russia shook his head incredulously. Had it been those years ago he may have hesitated, but only for a second. But now...now it was completely different. Lithuania had been very difficult to conquer, difficult to break in, which made him more desirable but since he was (freely) offering himself now, it was completely different. He may have been infatuated with Lithuania before but he felt not one hint of longing, of want, or giving in. He felt no need to surrender. Not only was now once and for all (well, for now) free of the sins of his past, but he was healing, trying to become a better nation for everyone. It would still be nice if everybody was to become one with him (and one day they all eventually would, of course), but taking independence away from another nation who had fought hard battles just to have it within his grasp again was something he couldn't bring himself to do. Not this time.

If Latvia had been offering, however...

Russia slowly got to his feet and walked past the Lithuanian until he reached his door. "I'm sorry, Liet," he said, opening the door and motioning for the other to leave. "But I won't have you now."

Lithuania stood from his chair and went to Russia without the slightest bit of hesitation, and when he reached the doorway, he gave him a small, but genuine smile.

"So it's true? Eduard had said you'd changed your mind - I had to find out for myself."

"Changed? I don't know what you mean," the Russian replied, giving him a small but genuine smile in return. "Goodbye, Liet."

* * *

Estonia looked troubled, Latvia thought to himself as he pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Together they were watching the television - at that moment, the news was on. More footage of the Berlin Wall, more footage of soldiers and more footage of everything the Baltic nations all wanted to put behind them for good.

"I've been a fool," the Estonian muttered quietly once the add breaks came on.

Latvia shuffled across the lounge until he was close enough to touch his knee to Estonia's. He freed one hand from the blanket and gave his brother's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's not your fault, Eduard."

Estonia chuckled humourlessly, shaking his head. "I saw Prussia being thrown out of Russia's house and I didn't help him."

Latvia shivered and looked away guiltily. His heart did that thing where it twisted in on itself at the very mention of Russia's name. He felt an anxious longing that just didn't want to go away. "What could you have done?" He asked quietly.

It wasn't Estonia's fault in the slightest - they were tough times and they were all lucky to survive. Sometimes, in the darkest recesses of his mind, Latvia wished he hadn't been so lucky. On some days, he cursed the sun for rising, for bringing him another day without the one who had stolen his heart and his everything. He wouldn't have died happily in Russia's hands, but at least he would have been able to experience what it was to truly love somebody. To ache for them, to bleed. It wasn't pretty, but what in the world was?

"He wasn't a bad person, Raivis." Latvia knew who he was talking about; it sounded as though he was convincing himself more than anything else. Latvia didn't need to be told. "He just wanted greatness and control and he wanted too much."

Why was it now that Estonia was saying this? After their arguments, after his seemingly-endless warnings about him, it was always more than implied that Estonia did not trust Russia and did not think highly of him at all. Latvia felt a pang of guilt - he could never forget the last months in Russia's house without Lithuania. Estonia must have felt betrayed.

"He just wanted friends," Latvia replied softly.

"He went about it the wrong way," Estonia retaliated dryly. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he continued. "Russia did care about you, Raivis."

The Latvian smiled sadly. "He cared for all of us, Eduard, in his own way."

"You don't understand." Estonia turned to him so his eyes were no longer fixed on the television. "He told me a little before I left. He...he loved you. I didn't believe him at first but if you had seen him after you left his house unannounced and without saying a word it would have broken your heart."

Latvia shook his head. "He was sad when Lithuania left, too."

"Why are you denying it? Isn't it what you wanted? He wasn't telling me what I wanted to hear just so I'd be friends with him, Raivis." There was no lie in the Estonian's eyes and Latvia had to look away momentarily. The words just wouldn't absorb into his mind. It made no sense. His was an unrequited love and it was made painfully clear on more than one occasion - it would never amount to anything more than just one lonely nation standing on his own, wishing, reaching for the unattainable. There was only one page in his book, the beginning, middle and end all as one. That was the way it had to be.

"If you think you're incapable of inspiring anybody or their feelings, then you're wrong. You're more valuable than you think you are, and I'm not just saying that. There's no use in me telling you lies. There wouldn't have been a Baltic Way without your hands, and when Lithuania was gone, there wouldn't have been an Estonia or Latvia without you."

Latvia didn't want to listen anymore. It was slowly getting better, despite the morbid thoughts that occurred inside his head. How could he possibly embrace his future independence knowing what he did now? Russia had confessed but surely now it was a different story. Latvia went away without telling him, without explaining or justification. He would be moving on with his life, as well, rebuilding what was broken, removing the memory of the Baltic nations from his home. And why should he not? It wasn't about having soldiers, supplies or land anymore. It wasn't about anything. The Cold War had ended and so had his relationship with Russia. A new page in history was being written and it had to be made clean, without blood stains and strained relationships. Latvia was a piece of red thread, sewn into an otherwise white scarf and he couldn't be that. He had to be the distant past, even though he didn't want to be, even though he wanted to embrace the news of Russia's love for him.

Latvia's independence was now freedom in a cage. He was able to walk freely on the one condition that Russia's hands could still be curled around his heart. He had to think of him at least once a day, dream about him at least once during the night. Damn Estonia for telling him this.

"I'm starting to feel tired, and no wonder, it's almost midnight," Latvia said nonchalantly, standing up and letting the blanket fall from his shoulders.

"Don't think you're not allowed to be happy," Estonia called after him as he left the room. "Because you are. You deserve to be."

Latvia didn't think he did. He had done nothing for his citizens during the war, and he neglected the wellbeing of his brothers to make way for his own selfishness. He knew nations who did such things all the time, but he didn't want to be one of them.

* * *

"Ugh, Liet! The crops will, like, never ever grow back if it gets any colder."

The morning was cold and crisp and snow was coating everything as far as the eye could see. The sun decided it would glide out from behind the dark clouds and grace the world with it's golden rays.

Latvia sat and watched as Lithuania helped Poland rearrange his house. He and his brother were wasting some time before they were expected in Russia for a UN meeting. The Latvian was nervous, and although it was funny to watch and listen to Lithuania and Poland argue like an old married couple, he couldn't ignore the anxiousness building up within him.

"You say this every year, Feliks. And every year those crops prove you wrong. They're more resilient than you think," Lithuania said with slight exasperation as he slipped on a clean pillow case over the soft square-shaped cushioning.

"Yeah but, like, I can't help worrying. It would totally suck if I went without a crop. Like, what would I do if nothing grew, seriously?" Poland had his hands on his hips, his mouth set into a sulky pout. Lithuania sighed and Latvia could tell he was holding back the urge to roll his eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Feliks. Everything will be alright, you'll see."

Reluctantly, Poland took his hands from his hips and sat down on the lounge, a calmer expression setting itself in place.

"So how's your American boy-toy, Liet?"

Lithuania blushed heavily and groaned. "I told you not to call him that! He's not that much younger than I am."

"Of course he is, Liet! Like, ages younger than you. Still, it's totally cute - a much better choice than that psycho Braginski. Yuck, he's so totally vulgar."

Latvia forced back the frown that wanted to form on his face. He may have been terrifying, but over all he was just misunderstood and he was sick of hearing everyone putting him down. Lithuania gave him an apologetic look and turned his attention back to the Pole.

"You know, Alfred's done some pretty awful things. We all do in war, Feliks."

Poland sat upright and stared wide-eyed at the Lithuanian, completely incredulous. "Don't tell me you're defending him! Seriously uncool, Liet. Do you remember what he did to me and his sisters? It was so, like, cruel."

Lithuania opened his mouth as if to say something but backed down, as if he knew arguing with Poland about Russia was something that would be never-ending. Neither of them would be able to meet half-way on the subject.

"Alright, Feliks. Listen, we'd best be leaving for that meeting now. Are you going to come with us?"

"I really need to finish decorating so, like, maybe next time?"

When Latvia and Lithuania left Poland's house, they walked to the airport quickly, avoiding the steadily growing winds.

"I'm sorry about Feliks, Raivis. He doesn't think about what he says a lot of the time," Lithuania said with a kind hand on Latvia's shoulder when they boarded the plane.

"I'm used to him, don't worry." Latvia wasn't used to anybody speaking poorly of Russia, but he was able to build a wall big enough to allow him to appear indifferent. Others would be shocked to know of his feelings, especially after everything that happened during the wars, and he could do without the judging eyes and prying words of his fellow nations.

"You're just like his crops, you know. Resilient even after a particularly harsh winter."

Latvia's harsh winter had lasted for a lot longer than a single season. How he was still standing was often a miracle to him.

They reached Moscow in a few hours and had some more time to waste before the meeting began. They decided to explore the streets for a while and see what they could buy from the shops that they didn't already have at home.

"We don't have a babushka doll, Raivis. You like those, don't you?"

Latvia nodded absently. He didn't know if he liked them or not, but he didn't know what to buy and truthfully, his mind wasn't focused on purchases.

The two brothers walked along, passing various shop windows, searching for a shop that sold them small dolls. Latvia stopped suddenly when he saw a tall figure approaching them slowly, swinging a faucet back and forth as he walked. Lithuania quickly followed suit and it seemed as though he was also at a loss for what they should do.

"Good afternoon, Liet," Russia said cheerily once he was at least four or five feet away. There was that childish smile on his face and Latvia looked away, both to hide his flushed face and to try and battle with his emotions. He had been mentally preparing for the meeting - inevitably he would have had to see him there, but he hadn't counted on seeing him beforehand.

"I-Ivan, what a surprise! Raivis and I were just shopping for some souvenirs before the meeting."

Russia continued to smile as he looked directly at Latvia. His eyes flickered with both an equally cold and warm familiarity and the smaller nation couldn't stop his heart from beating faster and harder against his ribs.

"How is little Latvia?" His voice was quieter, a lot more gentle than before. Latvia wished he would stop looking at him - he felt as though he couldn't breathe under his violet gaze.

"F-Fine."

"Raivis, I'm just going to look in this shop. Why don't you stay out here and talk to Ivan for a while? I'm sure there's a lot you two can talk about."

Latvia looked at him with his best "you're such a traitor" eyes which Lithuania chose to ignore. He disappeared inside the shop and Latvia was left standing awkwardly before Russia, feeling smaller than he ever had in his entire life.

"We should walk," Russia offered gently after a few dragging moments of awkward silence. "I'll show you a favourite park of mine."

Latvia nodded and Russia linked their arms together as though they hadn't been separated at all, as though they were the best of friends. He swallowed nervously and realised there was a painful lump in his throat and an uncomfortable prickling behind his eyes. He wanted to tell him he was sorry, that he missed him and that he was frightened but the words became mismatched inside of his head and he couldn't seem to get his mouth to form the words.

The Russian spoke of Gorbachev and Yeltsin and how different it was when the Soviet Union collapsed. Latvia was upset that he tip-toed around what had happened towards the end, when he became independent. It was when they had stopped to look out onto a frozen pond and Russia started playing with his fingers that Latvia was able to find his voice. He pulled his arm away and avoided the other's gaze.

"I-I'm sorry but I can't do this with you, Ivan," he said weakly, but he had made a breakthrough at least. "I can't forget what happened then and I don't know if I can pretend to so easily like you do."

"You don't have to pretend," Russia said with that pseudo-cheery tone. "I'm not pretending."

Latvia clenched his hands into nervous fists. The words that wanted to pour forth from his mouth were bold - bold for Latvia - and he began to shake thinking about them.

"Th-then why can't you tell me that you're angry that I left you? C-Can't you tell me anything?"

Russia's smile faltered a little as he regarded Latvia carefully. "Silly Raivis - I wasn't angry. I was upset, I must admit, but not angry."

Latvia couldn't help his tears; he felt obscure, little and lost. He should have been happy that there was no possessiveness in Russia's eyes when he looked at him anymore, but he wasn't. He had fallen in love with Russia even when he was cruel, even when he was possessive and scary, as strange and as slightly sick as it was. But at least he could say he loved him unconditionally. Now, it was as though a piece was missing and the man standing before him wasn't Russia.

"Please don't cry, Raivis."

"I can't help it," Latvia whispered. He was independent and he would do whatever the hell he wanted. He wiped at his eyes but more tears fell to make up for the ones that had been dried. His shaking became worse. He pulled his jacket around him tighter but it did little to help. "I wish none of it had happened. I wish I didn't love you," he said almost inaudibly.

Out of the blue, two very strong arms wrapped themselves around him and he was pulled into a solid, warm body. He struggled against the hold, but Russia was not going to give in, so he allowed himself to be held. Familiar scents of vodka and wool and carpet-dust made his mind cloud over slightly. He really had missed Russia; so much it hurt.

"What a sad thing to wish for."

Latvia tried to ignore the break in the other's voice. He knew although they were unable to see one another's faces, Russia would still be trying to smile.

"I need you to keep me warm, remember? I need you to love me, remember? I need you to because I love Latvia, too. It would be sad if after everything, it all came to no good, wouldn't it, yes?"

Latvia shook his head. He was unable to believe the words that had come from Russia's mouth. He was unsure whether he had imagined it, whether it was a dream and he was going to wake up at any moment. "I-I don't believe you."

Russia released him from his grip momentarily only to put his hands back on his shoulders, firmly holding on. He leaned down until they were eye-level and those childish eyes were lost and confused and Latvia could see how vulnerable the Russian was in that very moment.

Russia was never vulnerable.

He was telling the truth.

"I-It couldn't possibly work between us, Ivan. Not now."

"Why?" There was a fear in his eyes that was difficult to face. "I won't make you sad anymore, and I'll understand you. I'll try hard, Raivis. I really will."

Gently, hesitantly, the Latvian brought his hands to Russia's face as though he might find the real truth there somewhere. The larger nation leaned into his touch and Latvia knew that he did need him. It hadn't changed from back then. He wanted Latvia, and only Latvia, because he was the only one who could give him the love he wanted the most.

"When did you realise?" Latvia asked softly, brushing his thumbs underneath Russia's eyes which had become glassy.

"When it was too late," Russia replied sadly.

Heart pounding impossibly hard against his ribs, Latvia leaned in slowly and when his lips were just shy of touching Russia's he whispered, "It was never too late." Russia closed the little distance they had left between them and Latvia momentarily forgot everything and felt as though they were the only two beings on Earth.

Something in Russia's kiss told him it would be different, but there was a small, darkened part of him that remained uncertain, even though he had what he'd been searching for since the very beginning. Their tongues danced a delightful dance, and even though some of the steps were a little shaky, the connection was no less passionate; they were overcome by the adoration that had been left to grow, neglected, after so many years.

When they finally had to part for breath, Latvia looked into those deep eyes and he could see there was another place, another universe there waiting for him. In that moment, he left his fears behind and promised himself that he would step forward with his hand in Russia's, ready for whatever the world had to show them.

* * *

**-Fin**

**For the last time, thank you for your encouragement and support! :3 Russvia forever. XD**

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**OMAKE**

"I'm here to offer myself to you." He lowered his eyes once more and focused on his hands that came to rest on the surface of Russia's desk. "I know it didn't work before - I-I was blind, see, and I didn't know what was right for me. I want you as you wanted me those years ago. Won't you have me now?"

Russia slowly got to his feet and walked past the Lithuanian until he reached his door. "I will have you now, Liet," he said slowly, locking it securely. "You will get naked for me now, yes?"


End file.
